If you know me at all, you are aware that I am not the type of person to be drawn to a race like this — put pink frilly femininity on one side of the spectrum and total goth on the other, and I’m about as far toward goth as possible without actually being goth.

But I did want a flat fall half to use as an indicator for NYCM, and the Brooklyn Greenway Half (in two weeks) seemed a little late.  So I decided to just suck it up.  And pay a hell of a lot of money for the privilege, but hey!  I uncharacteristically registered many, many months ago, because this race is so freaking expensive it’s ridiculous, particularly if “free tutu included!” is not something you really consider a perk.  That’s before we factor in that I needed to rent a car.

(Can we talk about that for a second?  I don’t want to own a car because I do not need the headache.  Renting one means I am not supposed to have that headache — someone else maintains the damn thing, I drive it and do no damage, return it, everyone is happy.  So when it turns out that the cigarette lighter socket doesn’t work, thus rendering your car charger useless, and when the low tire pressure warning goes off after less than ten minutes… yes, this is kind of defeating the purpose.  But we all survived to tell the tale.)

Anyway.  I needed this car because I had to drive out to Long Island on Friday to pick up my bib (and let’s not forget the tutu!), which, of course, was screaming neon pink.  I should have been a seeded runner — that would have gotten me a black bib.  But registration was kind of befuddling…

You see the problem, don’t you?  The paces do not exactly correspond with the finish times.  I stupidly elected to go with the finish times, because even though I was planning to run far closer to a 7:00 mile than 8:00, I certainly was not going to be running under 1:32.  Stupid of me.

I did actually have a plan, here!  I wanted to run 1:35.  1:35:59 would have been acceptable, since that is technically still 1:35.  One minute in a half marathon apparently equals a five-second difference in pace, so if 1:35 is a 7:15 pace, I needed to run anywhere between that and 7:20.  I decided to broaden it a bit and aim for 7:10 to 7:20, allowing for the fact that my Garmin would measure the course as longer than 13.1 miles.

As usual, I arrived stupidly early.  I actually have learned from my past mistakes, since this race is in Eisenhower Park, just like the Long Island Marathon… where I always, without fail, “lose” my car after the race.  This time I dropped a GPS pin on my phone so that I’d be able to get back to the right lot without wandering for miles.

And then I wandered the mile to the start, only to learn that gear check was back near the finish.  Which is also the case at the Long Island Marathon, except that you can actually check your bag at the start line, and it is transported to the finish for you.  A lot more convenient that way.  So I got in a nice three-mile walk first thing.

Then I paid many visits to the porta potties.  I lost count.  Four?  Five?  Who knows.  I really need to do something about this situation, but moving on from the TMI…

At 7:50, I did a very short (as in, less than three minutes) warmup, because I was under the impression that the half started at 8:00, and I did not want to get lost behind a sea of pink tutus.  I did not want to be beaten by any tutus!  (This doesn’t mean I thought I would win.  I knew I wouldn’t.  But the lead runners in past years were like me, and not wearing the things.)  It’s a good thing I did do that itty-bitty warmup, because it gave me the opportunity to work out the nasty stitch in my side.  Or freak out that it would stick around for the race.  Same thing, no?

Turns out the last wave of the 5K actually went off at 8:00, and the half marathon started at 8:15.  So I got to hang out at the start line some more, shivering after discarding my protective garbage bag.  (Observe the two women in front of me.  One of them finished less than thirty seconds ahead of me, and she had a black bib because she was not dumb like me.  Then again, she’s done this race before.)

It was pretty nice weather for running, actually.  Humid, but that sure beats the rain that was being predicted as of last week.  And it was a great relief that the crazy wind of the previous couple of days had died down.  There were a few rather strong headwinds (with no corresponding tailwinds, naturally), but it could have been so much worse; I’m thankful that it wasn’t.  It was cloudy, too, but of course I chose to wear sunglasses anyway.

There are so many turns on this course!  I was legitimately worried about getting lost — based on last year’s results, I knew I wouldn’t win, but I’d probably place in the top ten.  That puts me behind the lead vehicles, but in front of the masses, and left to my own devices… I get lost.  I seriously considered writing turn-by-turn directions on my hand, but I forgot about it and then it was too late.

Finally, the horn sounded, and off we went.  I was watching like a hawk to be sure I didn’t do what I usually tend to do and go out way too fast, and I think I was relatively successful.  I settled pretty quickly into a pace that I thought I could probably hold, and then took stock of my placement — I was sixth overall, but one of the people ahead of me was male, and men can’t place in this race, so for all intents and purposes I was really in fifth place.

Getting lost did not turn out to be an issue.  There were six lead cyclists; three were riding with the lead runner, and the other three were accompanying the second, third, and fourth place runners (excluding the male, because he can’t place, so who cares if he gets lost?).  And the course was very well-marked, both with traffic cones and the help of volunteers.

I passed one of the women ahead of me around the one-mile mark.  She was pretty close on my heels for the next few miles, all while I freaked out because my heel was bugging me (it has been for a couple of weeks, but it’s not the same sharp pain I felt with the stress fracture, so it’s probably related to the barometric pressure and/or in my head), and grabbed Gatorade instead of water because they were both in white cups, which I hate.  She passed me around mile 7.  I thought about going after her, but I decided not to do that — it didn’t really matter to me whether I placed first or second in my AG, and we weren’t battling for a top three spot, so it just seemed to make more sense to focus on my own race and achieving my goal.

And I was already more than halfway there!  It sounds a little silly to say, but even though I did set myself the goal of running 1:35, and I knew that I probably did have the physical ability to do it… a part of me was really freaked out to be running that pace, steadily, for such a long time.  I ran the first 10K faster than my actual 10K PR, which doesn’t mean much because I loathe 10Ks and am terrible at them, but this was still a bit much to handle.  Especially since that was the part of the race where it really started to hurt.  Not in an “I need to quit or I am going to die” way; more like, “I think I can keep doing this, but it is going to be incredibly painful.”

Up until that point, I had been trying to focus on individual miles.  Sure, I can run one mile between 7:10 and 7:20; and then, if I need to, I can do it again!  But now I switched to trying to figure out whether I’d still be able to make 1:35 if I ran 7:30s for the rest of the race.  (I was using 7:30s because it’s just easier — two miles are fifteen minutes, not fourteen minutes and twenty or thirty seconds — and because my watch was varying between matching up with the mile markers and being way ahead.  Hedging my bets seemed like the best choice.)

Being that numbers are not my forte under the best of circumstances, this did not prove a very helpful exercise.  I thought I would make it — if not under 1:35, then at least under 1:36 — but I really couldn’t be sure, so I just gave up.  My pace dipped over 7:20 a few times, but I was so close to the finish, I just forced myself to battle back.

Right at the twelve mile mark was a “boa and tiara” station.  I hadn’t been planning to waste time on that if I was on pace for a PR — and that, I certainly was (I wore the Magic Shoes, after all) — but they were practically thrown in my face so I took them, even though I had no clue what I was supposed to do with these things.  I wound up folding over the boa a couple of times and sticking it in the back of my waistband, so I was effectively running with a pink tail.  And I did try putting the tiara on my head, but it isn’t made for running, and it bounced with every step, so I just wound up carrying that in my hand.

See my boa tail? And the tiara in my hand? Lovely.

I don’t actually remember seeing a marker for 13 miles.  I just heard someone with a megaphone hollering about there being less than a quarter mile to go — AKA, two minutes if you’re running 8:00 miles, and I was running faster, and my watch said 1:33: xx, and OMFG I THINK I MIGHT ACTUALLY HAVE THIS!!

Where I found it in me to race the clock that was all-too-quickly ticking down toward 1:35, I do not know, but obviously I found it somewhere, because the most unbelievable, magical thing happened.

I broke 1:35.  Me.  I’ve had a couple of days to let this sink in, but I still don’t think it has. Sometimes I feel like it seems that I say I’m not going to make a goal so that I have an “out” when I don’t — but that’s never it.  I don’t say I won’t be able to do something unless I really believe that to be true.

To prove just how much I didn’t believe this would really happen, I allowed myself to promise to post a photo of myself in that ridiculous tutu if I ran 1:35.  I would never have said that if I thought I’d actually have to do it.  But then the pot was sweetened with an offer to donate to my favorite charity if I did post this photo, and for OneFamily, I am willing to look like an idiot.  So here is one of the more mortifying photos for which I have ever posed.

Why people think the idea of running in a tutu and getting boa and tiara for their efforts is appealing is something I will never understand, but different strokes, and all that.

This is pretty much all I could have wanted — I said that I needed a magical race like last year’s Bronx 10-Miler, and that’s what I got.  I only wish I could have negative split, but the positive split is so slight that it’s really negligible, and I think it’s partly due to my trying to keep up with the cyclist who was riding a bit faster than I really wanted to run. If it sounds like I’m blaming him, that’s not it at all — I am actually quite thankful, because he forced me to set a pace that I would have otherwise been too intimidated to try and maintain.  And it also made me feel like I was actually running a race, because with the exception of some footsteps behind me, I was basically running on my own for the first half … until the cyclist zoomed off somewhere, and the woman behind me passed me, and I crossed into this really ****ing hurts territory.

Garmin: 13.25 miles in 1:35:00, 7:10/mi.  Kind of funny that I stopped my watch at 1:35 exactly.

Officially, 1:34:56, 7:15/mi. 5/780 OA, 5/772 F, and 2/96 F30-34.  That’s a PR by 2:29.  Geez!!

Because I placed in my AG, I got double the bling.

That AG medal is heavy.  Over a pound.  (Yes, I weighed it.)  I’m quite concerned that my medal hanger might detach itself from the wall because of it.  But so far, so good.

And now it is time for the most hilarious part of this all… McMillan predictions!

1mi — 5:54.4
5K — 20:30 (6:36/mi)
4mi — 26:39 (6:40/mi)
5mi — 34:00 (6:48/mi)
10K — 42:35 (6:51/mi)
15K — 1:05:59 (7:05/mi)
10mi — 1:11:10 (7:07/mi)
FM — 3:19:47 (7:38/mi)

If I had to choose which one of these seems most impossible… well, I don’t think I could. All that it tells me is that the half marathon must be my strongest distance, because none of these are happening any time soon.

But I can worry about that later.  For now I am choosing to ignore that my stupid peroneals are being stupid, instead being grateful that all I seem to have broken is 1:35 — not any bones.  Most people take that as a given.  I do not.

Congrats on such a good race and for hanging on once you were out there by yourself!

Also, what "unique running fact about you" did you share with them on your registration?

Awesome race, and such good execution!  That placement is impressive....5/780.  Great job, Princess!

I do that crazy math too...trying to figure out if I slow to XX pace for XX miles if I'll still get my goal.

BTW where the hell is everyone else?  Talk about running in no man's land (or no diva's land).

 

  The next person behind me (the male, coincidentally) was nearly two minutes back, so I got to revel in the glory all by myself.

I seriously don't get this....doing a women's race and racing it.  I would feel completely out of place and awkward.

3 miles is a ton to walk before a race, for my lazy butt, anyway.

Barometric? Is that a race variable? 

Race a 10k! Surely you can string together 6, sub-7:00 miles. Your PR tree deserves at least that.

Speaking of PR, this was the rare, it all came together race performance. It was smart to not pass that runner at 7, which culminated in that 6:58 mile 12. Wonderful! 

3 miles is a ton to walk before a race, for my lazy butt, anyway.

 

Barometric? Is that a race variable? 

 

Race a 10k! Surely you can string together 6, sub-7:00 miles. Your PR tree deserves at least that.

 

Speaking of PR, this was the rare, it all came together race performance. It was smart to not pass that runner at 7, which culminated in that 6:58 mile 12. Wonderful! 

Believe me, I wasn't thrilled about it either!!

ATMOSPHERIC PRESSURE, OKAY??

I don't like 10Ks, though!!  And this Sunday I'm volunteering at the nice flat one a mile from my house instead of running it.  Because racing a 10K the week after racing a HM would be stupid.  And I don't like 10Ks!!  (I will try eventually, though.  I'll just pretend it's a HM in which I went out way too fast, but I won't die, because the finish line is really before the halfway point.)

I know!!  That was what I needed -- there was no way in hell I would have run 1:35 without a miracle.

 

Impressive. Math and racing is like vinegar and water for me, they don't mix!

Math and me are like oil and water... they never mix. 

That was an epic post. EPIC.

 

I seriously don't get this....doing a women's race and racing it.  I would feel completely out of place and awkward.

I simply would NOT.